I touch the side of my face. It’s where Tina slapped me earlier this morning. I was there when the agents gathered my family in the room and told them the truth about my father. Not the exact truth—not about the covert stuff—but that he had faked his death, and that he was out there somewhere working with terrorists, and as long as he was out there, they were in danger.
Then the agents told my family about me. How I had been working with the government, too. How I had done something to piss off the cartel, and that the cartel now wanted to kill them as revenge.
I was standing in a side room when this happened, watching my family through a two-way mirror. Max was in Tina’s lap, while Ryan sat close to her, his arm around her shoulders, Matthew beside him. I watched my mother in her seat, staring down at her lap. Completely stunned.
At one point Tina started shouting my name. Asking where I was. Why I wasn’t there to face them. She handed Max off to Ryan as she shot her to feet, and she looked around the room, maybe for something to throw in anger, and that’s when she noticed the mirror. She stormed over to the mirror, stared straight ahead. It wasn’t quite close to me, but it was close enough.
“Are you in there, Holly? Are you there, you bitch?”
Ryan came over and walked her back to the group, trying to calm her down. The agents told them they would all be given new identities. That they would be provided with a new home, and jobs, and enough money to make sure they could get a fresh start.
I waited until the agents finished and they directed my family out into the hallway. I knew I should have stayed away, but I stepped out as they walked past. I saw my mother first. She made eye contact, but then quickly looked away.
Tina charged at me.
“What the fuck, Holly? What the fuck?”
One of the agents tried to hold her back, but he wasn’t fast enough. Tina slapped me, just the one time. I didn’t move, didn’t react, and watched as my family was ushered down the hallway toward their new lives.
In my ears, Atticus clears his throat.
“Are you still there?”
“I’m here.”
“Did you see Erik this morning?”
“Yes.”
“Is he doing any better?”
I think about seeing Erik last night, and this morning. He was groggy last night due to the drugs, barely remembered my visit, but this morning he had been more alert.
I sat by his bed, tried to hold his hand, but he didn’t seem to care. He just lay there, staring at the muted television, while the machines around his bed kept up their incessant beeping.
I whispered, “Thank you.”
He didn’t respond for the longest time, and when he did, he stared ahead at the TV.
“You don’t have to be here.”
I’d been shot before, had been beat up, one time stabbed, but never once had words hurt me so badly.
“I want to be here.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Erik.”
His face tensed, but still he wouldn’t look at me.
“I’m a cripple now. Might have to use a wheelchair all my life. You really want to be with a cripple?”
This wasn’t the Erik Johnson I knew. The Erik who told me about his childhood and how he ended up in Alden. The Erik who risked his life to save my sister and nephews.
This was a new Erik, one who would probably be here for a while. I couldn’t blame this new Erik. I would resent me, too.
I reached out again, took his hand in mine, squeezed it.
“I want to be with you.”
Now, standing on Independence Avenue, the Botanic Garden behind me, I watch a black SUV pull up and stop at the curb.
“Atticus, I have to go.”
“Goodbye, Holly. And good luck.”
I close the phone and slip it into my pocket as I step forward and open the back door.
General Walter Hadden sits inside. He doesn’t look at me.
I slide into the seat, close the door, and at once the SUV starts moving.
Walter doesn’t speak at first. He has an iPad in his lap, and stares straight ahead out the windshield as the driver takes us past the National Mall. He looks much older than he did when I last saw him a year ago, like he’s aged five years. I note he’s not wearing his wedding ring.
I ask, “How’s Marilyn and the kids?”
Walter looks at me for the first time.
“I would be lying if I said I thought I would ever see you again.”
“That’s sweet.”
He frowns.
“Haven’t missed your sarcasm, that’s for sure.”
I nod slowly, and take a breath.
“Can we start over? I want to thank you for what you did for my family.”
“I simply made some phone calls. You’re the one who agreed to come back to work for Uncle Sam.”
Yes, I did agree. I had no choice. Not if I wanted to make sure my family was safe. Or get a chance to track down my father and confront him one last time.
“To be honest, I’m surprised you would have me back.”
He shifts in his seat, stares out his window.
“Wasn’t my first choice. But the truth is, something’s recently come up and I could use an extra pair of eyes.”
“You already have a mission for me?”
“Less than forty-eight hours ago, while you were having your fun out in L.A., an Air Force drone pilot stole some top-secret information and flew to Germany where we believe he planned to meet with a journalist.”
“Why does this sound familiar?”
“Edward Snowden practically pulled the same stunt, only he initially went to Japan.”
“So what happened?”
“A non-sanctioned team was sent in to bring him back.”
“Your team?”
He cuts me a quick glance.
“I don’t have a team anymore. This was a team you don’t know.”
“Okay, so what happened?”
“The team was ambushed. Three killed, but one managed to escape.”
“The drone pilot killed them?”
Walter turns on the iPad, keeps
